


BTW

by impertinence



Category: Vampire Diaries (TV)
Genre: Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-05-25
Updated: 2010-05-25
Packaged: 2017-10-09 17:21:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,002
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/89817
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/impertinence/pseuds/impertinence
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Damon listens and plots. BRILLIANTLY.</p>
            </blockquote>





	BTW

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to [Bekah](http://expastic.livejournal.com) for audiencing/egging me on and to [Katarin](just-katarin.livejournal.com) for the idea of Damon's boner for technology.

Their first night together was so sweet Damon walked away from it expecting to shit Lucky Charms. They got along so _well_, they just _clicked_, and oh, Stefan, Elena just loooooved him. Damon glared at the bark of the tree nearest the Salvatore house. Puppy love was always disgusting, but when it was his brother, it was five times worse.

Maybe he should finally just kill Stefan. The idea had merit. Or the girl - Elena. Tiny, cute, forgettable in every way. Her blood would taste like teenager, though. Tacky.

Stefan and Elena, Stefan and Elena. Damon scaled the stairs and sat in the dark, waiting for Stefan to get back so he could give him hell. Stefan and Elena. One way or another, he was going to take their silly little puppies-and-kittens romance and turn it inside out.

||

When they started making out in the old family home, Damon thought very seriously about setting up some cameras and broadcasting it on the internet. The internet was the future, after all. There had to be a market for annoyingly chaste teenagers in annoyingly chaste love.

Then they started fucking in the house, and Damon couldn't get his thoughts together long enough to think about the internet, webcams, or anything else.

And it wasn't just the sounds. The _smells_ lingered, no matter how much time he spent out, no matter how drunk he got. It was annoying; he'd lie in bed and jerk off, knowing Stefan could hear, and never being quite trashed enough to start voicing his fantasies about Elena.

Or Stefan. That would certainly be interesting.

"Fuck me sideways," he moaned once when he was done, licking his fingers noisily.

Stefan didn't answer; Damon didn't expect him to. He was cuddling Elena in bed as they both read.

But he'd heard, and Damon was going to make him keep hearing.

||

The problem with Elena was that she was really pretty okay, once you got past the whole "tiny, human, brother-fucking girl who looks like Katherine" thing.

She was annoyingly good-hearted. Not always; she was plenty selfish in a lot of ways. Damon fully expected little Bonnie to lose it and go all witchy on Elena one day. But she was a good sister, and a caring girlfriend, and all kinds of bullshit that made Damon want to kill her slowly.

Or was that fuck her slowly? It was hard to keep it straight.

Shit kept happening. Plenty of it was his fault, but then, plenty of it wasn't. Things just tended to happen in Mystic Falls. He wouldn't have been surprised to find out that the place was cursed. It attracted chaos. Which, really, worked, because chaos was excellent. Damon _liked_ chaos. Chaos made Stefan cry.

But chaos also meant Elena kept risking her neck, and Damon got less and less okay with that. He blamed Stefan.

When Isobel came back, she had a noose around Elena's neck before Damon found her. "Your boyfriend's kind of an absentee type, isn't he?" he said, cutting her down and not thinking about the trouble Stefan might be in, or how it had felt to kiss her.

Or Katherine, whatever. There wasn't any difference, he reminded himself. They were exactly the same. Most importantly, neither of them wanted him.

"Hmm," he said, surveying Elena while she looked panicked and confused. Why did he care?

"Stefan," Elena said, shaking him. "Damon, we have to find Stefan!"

He cared about that now, too. He smiled at her, trying to set her at ease. "Yes, yes, of course. Calm down. You'll get wrinkles, and Stefan will move on to the next pretty young thing."

"You're not making any sense," Elena said. She looked annoyed more than anything else. "Come on, already."

The annoying thing was, she had a point. He really wasn't making any sense these days.

||

He kept dreaming about fucking Stefan, and it was a problem.

Isobel had left again, and Stefan and Elena were busy sucking face and giving him hard-ons at seriously inopportune times. And the bitch of it was, Stefan didn't even bite her. Oh, he'd go all fang-y and Elena would pet his face and reassure him that she still loved him, and sometimes if they were feeling _really_ adventurous, Elena would be on top. Once they'd even tried bondage - if you could call using Stefan's ties and giggling a bunch bondage. But Stefan wouldn't bite.

And okay, human blood, addiction, yadda yadda. But Damon knew, he _knew_, the urge Stefan had to be getting now. That need to bite - not even to taste, but just to bite, to feel. And he didn't act on it, not even a little. Didn't even try. Hell, he didn't even leave bruises, as far as Damon could tell.

So his dreams were full of blood and death, and fucking Stefan and biting him all over. Elena was in them too, sometimes, but she always either looked at him with disgust all over his face, or she had her throat torn out. Of the two, Damon figured he'd rather see her dead than judging him. She had less than no right.

It was a pity he could never get her naked in his dreams, though. That was just...annoying.

He dreamed about fucking Stefan the night in July that he saved some idiot woman's life. It was like this: if it was dark, and you had two brats hanging off you, and you were arguing on your phone, you shouldn't step out into traffic. Even if 'traffic' was a drunk guy going three times the speed limit on the wrong side of the road. There was no excuse.

He told her that, and she burst into tears. Stefan handled her with a look that was the scrunchy-faced, disapproving cousin of confused, and Damon shrugged and said, "What? I saved her life, didn't I?"

"Go home," Stefan said, and Damon obeyed. Not because Stefan had ordered him, of course, but because fuck Stefan: he'd been going home anyway.

And then that night he dreamed about pushing Stefan into the grass and fucking him, biting him and making him make all the idiot noises he made for Elena on the many, many nights when he and Elena decided to make the Salvatore house Voyeurism Central.

It was only notable because it was the first night Elena was there. She was touching his back; Damon never got to see her expression. And really, right then, that night, he should have been worried.

Well, no. He should have been worried when he decided to stay in Mystic Falls and play nice with all the humans. That night, he should have panicked.

So later, much later, he'd put all his problems down to the fact that he really didn't _do_ panic.

||

It annoyed him that it was coming up on August and they still hadn't had the "So Damon can hear us every time we fuck" talk in Damon's hearing.

He didn't doubt that they'd had it. Stefan was wary of him thanks to experience; Elena was wary thanks to some truly killer instinct. But they hadn't had the manners to have it where he could hear them, so he didn't know if they were taunting him or not when they bought the dildo.

He'd long been a proponent of Stefan getting a deep-dicking, so that part was fine. But the noises they made were fucking poisonous. Stefan's moans were the new kind, the just-lost-a-virginity kind. He was used to hearing them from girls he'd seduced, not _Stefan_.

And afterwards, Elena walked around with this smug little smile on her face. That smile said, "I've fucked your brother, and you haven't." Even leaving aside all the pretty little issues with incest and eternities of misery, no one got to have parts of Stefan that he hadn't taken or rejected outright.

The next night they did something involving handcuffs and a stunning amount of dirty talk. Damon spent hours lying on his back, hand on his dick, glaring at the ceiling. Something had to give - or _he_ was going to give and go on a killing spree. There wasn't a third option.

||

Elena kissed him on a Wednesday. He only remembered because town meeting were on Wednesdays, and he'd somehow gotten roped into attending them every week. It was painfully boring, except when Carol started in on how one of the other women was a husband-stealing slut. Damon had asked her once how many times her husband had been stolen before he'd gone and died, and she'd just laughed and called him a tease. He figured the day she figured out he wasn't going to sleep with her, she'd try to pass some kind of regulation on flirting.

Then he'd eat her. It would be a good day.

Not as good as this day, though. Elena - who was very definitely Elena, and not Katherine - went up on her toes and kissed him. It was the most chaste kiss he'd gotten since 1860 or so. Or at least, it would have been if Stefan wasn't leaning against the wall ten feet away, watching them.

Elena smiled and said, "See you later," and he had to tamp down the urge to break her neck. Instead he went and poured himself a drink, and then another, and another. By the time they got back he was stinking drunk, and they both stayed away from him.

Maybe it wasn't a good day. Maybe it was the Wednesday that would make him hate Wednesdays for at least another hundred years. He wasn't going to hold his breath.

Because he was a vampire, he thought drunkenly. Hah, hah.

||

"Are you sober now?" Stefan asked two Wednesdays later.

"Probably," Damon said. "Mostly."

"We need to talk, then," Elena said.

Damon stood and went by the door. It would provide a dramatic escape route, should it be necessary.

"It's pretty obvious you've been listening," Stefan said. "And, um."

"Getting off," Elena said, rolling her eyes. "If you hadn't freaked out when I kissed you -"

"I did not freak out," Damon said. "I coped. If you didn't want me to cope, you should have thought about the _copious_ amounts of sex you were having. All over the place. Honestly, Elena, I know you're young, but that's ridiculous."

"Yeah, okay, we're terrible," Elena said. "Horrible, awful people. You get what we were saying, though, right?"

Oh, this was going to be good. "Actually, I was thinking you should explain it to me."

"Damon." Stefan was wearing his I Am The Mature Brother, Damon, Listen To Me face. "Come on."

"If you both want to fuck me -"

"Or the other way around," Elena said.

It was the delivery that mattered. Cool as a cucumber. They _had_ been talking about this, Damon realized, narrowing his eyes at Elena. A lot.

"Sure," he said, and then decided to just toss the fucking towel in. He pitched his voice high. "Damon, stop flirting with my girlfriend. Damon, the crazy vampire bitch said you're in love with her, stay away! Damon -"

Then Elena took the three steps forward she needed to yank his head down and kiss him, hard but also bizarrely, impossibly sweet - and when he looked up, Stefan had stepped closer. Very possibly taking _actual_ baby steps, but hey, it was better than nothing.

"Just...let us do this," Elena said.

"You know it's going to be a disaster, right?" he couldn't help but say.

Elena gave him the same look she'd used when he'd threatened to kill Bonnie. You're an idiot and it's embarrassing, that look said.

"Oh, fine," he said. He'd put up with it for now. Hey, it was better than listening in. And secretly taping a steamy threesome would get way more hits than obnoxiously vanilla sex. He wasn't going to give up all his evil plans now that he'd stopped killing people, after all.

That, he thought, kissing Elena again and crooking his finger at Stefan, would have been silly.


End file.
